Snow On The Pavement
by Coolbreeze48
Summary: Neal has only been working for the FBI for two weeks, and can't stand it. With Peter now infuriated at him, he snaps and goes on an adventure. Which may lead to the reckage of his life.
1. Chapter one: The Break

**A/N: Hello and thanks for choosing this story! This is one of my first fanfic's so please patient with me! Hope you enjoy! Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar.**

Neal opens his eyes to the sun, slicing into his sleepy pupils like knives. He squints and moans. He rolls in his thin sheets to the other side of his bed. He knew he should get up, Peter would be pissed if he hadn't made it to work on time. But hey, he had been doing good the past two weeks. Only about thirty minutes late each time. One of his bright eyes pops open and looks at the grandfather cloak in the corner of the small apartment. He had to stare at it for a long moment so his brain could assimilate what the clock read. 8:41. Yeah…Peter will be pissed. Two hours late…there was really no reason to even try to go in today. He'll just half to hear the wrath of Peter later. But maybe he can slide into the Burke house so Elizabeth will save him. She's good at saving him. He buries his face in the silk down feather pillow under his head. Another part of him said to get up and at least try to go in. He will be late but at least he tried….right? He lay there for a moment, sucking in air through the thick pillow. That's when he hears something click beside him. One of his electric eyes shoots from the pillow and spots a person standing over him. He was so caught off guard by the sight he gasped and practically jumped to the foot of the bed. Grabbing a handful of sheets to guard himself from the intruder. His heart jumped to his ears as his tired brain told him it was alright. "It's about time you got up twinkle toes. Did it not cross your mind when you looked at the clock that you were a tad late?" Peter asks, angrily placing his hands on his hips.

Neal sighs and glares at him. "Jesus, Peter! What are you doing in my house!" He found himself almost yelling at him.

Peter raises an eyebrow and laughs. "This isn't your house. It's June's."

Neal jumps from the bed and throws the sheets on the foot. He trudges to the counter and fills a glass of water for himself. After he takes a few sips he looks back at Peter, who is furious by the redness in his face.

"It's my apartment," Neal tells him.

"It's a room. Nothing is yours."

Neal narrows his eyes at Peter. "It's my room…June let me have it. Either way, What are you doing here?" He already knew the answer…but there was no reason Peter had to be standing over him like a stalker.

The agent wipes a hand down his tired face. Why is he playing stupid?

"I'm here to get you. Hoping you were dying. At least that would give you an excuse for being lazy," He snaps.

Neal lets a laugh escape him. "I'm sorry I didn't want to get up at five thirty to go to a job I didn't want." He snaps back.

Peter points at the hallway leading to Neal's closet. "Go put on some clothes and let's go." He demands.

Neal growls at him and walks to the hall.

It took him about thirty minutes to prepare himself. To pick out a suit, matching shirt and tie. Fix his hair and find a fedora to top it off. After all he did half to look good no matter if he wanted to or not.

Once he walked out of the closet he met Peter at the door.

"Almost three hours late. Good job, Neal. Now I'll have to hear it from Hughes." He grumbles.

Neal ignores him and walks from the room. With Peter breathing fury down his neck.

About twenty minutes later him and Peter walked into the bureau. It was a quiet ride here, and Neal disliked that. He never liked silence, but he didn't feel like trying to talk to the fuming agent. It would have been useless. Considering them talking would probably only lead to arguing, and Neal didn't feel like bothering with that. Hughes meets the men as they enter through the thick glass doors. He stands on the balcony above and gives Peter the famous 'two finger point.' His head wipes to Neal and glares at him. 'This is your fault!' Was written all over his face.

"Sit down and wait for me to return," He tells Neal.

Neal obeys and sits at his…desk. As Peter disappears into Hughes office he lay his feet atop if the small wooden box he was forced to call a desk. He looks around at the people giving him faces. They still aren't quite use to having an ex-con bounding around their quarters. Touching their stuff and trying to make conversation with them. Which was the hardest thing ever. It has only been two weeks though. Two, long…hard weeks.

Neal catches the eyes of Jones, who's desk is directly across from his so he can 'watch over' Neal. Which wasn't necessary. He was consistently monitored by this stupid anklet, he couldn't possibly do anything. Three miles wasn't even enough to get to the nearest bathroom.

Jones looks over to Hughes office and lifts a questioning eyebrow at Neal. "What happened?" He mouths.

"He got up late," Neal mouths back.

Jones makes an O with his mouth, telling him he understood. But their was still question in his face.

Soon enough Peter was out of Hughes office and calling everyone to the conference room. When they all entered, Neal sat next to Dianna and gave her one of his beaming smiles. None of the ladies could turn down the Neal Caffrey smile. She blinks and frowns at him. "Don't do that," She tells him.

His dark brow knits together. "Why? Falling under my spell?" He teases.

"Have I yet?"

The question lingers in the air.

"No,"

"Well then, there's your answer."

Dianna was an odd soul to Neal. She was one of the only women he couldn't make melt with a lift of his eyebrow or a slow seductive smile. She was a very beautiful women, she had great taste in art and didn't mind beating some people up. But maybe that was why she didn't fall for his tricks. She was way to smart to deal with a teaser like him.

"Okay, we have a new case." Peter announces catching everyone's attractions.

"A man named Conner Blankly stole a painting from a museum two days ago -"

"What painting did he steal?" Neal cuts in.

Peter's eyes bolt to Neal. His words are dark and frustrated. "Something called The pioneer, by Winslow Homer," He slowly answers.

Neal lifts an eyebrow. "Winslow Homer? Really? This Blankly guy in an armature." He replies. "If he really wanted to steal something worth going to jail for life; he would want to steal a Picasso or Monet. Those are worth it. The way they blend colors and let your mind wonder is why they cost millions. And are worth taking."

Everyone lay quiet, most just stare at him. As if they were scared. His eyes shift around everyone and he smiles.

"Just thought that would help," He adds in.

Peter grumbles at him. He then takes a deep breath and continues.

"Thank you for that, Neal. But anyway, we defiantly want to find him. He was spotted at a bank on central about twenty hours ago." He slides the black and white surveillance photos onto the glass table.

"He was probably depositing the hundred he got from selling the painting," Neal sarcastically states.

Peter tried to ignore that comment.

"Where exactly did he steal the painting from again?" Dianna asks while examining the photos.

"A place called the Metropolitan," Peter answers.

Neal laughs at this and shakes his head. "There's no possible way he could steal anything from The Met. Actually, there's no way _anyone _who doesn't have full knowledge of the Met could steal something from there. That place is one of the most surveillanced places in New York."

People stare at him again, but this look was soaking in what he said. Not fear.

"So then he's an expert," Jones throws out.

"Not likely. Like I said there is no way anyone could steal anything from there unless…" He trials off.

"Unless what?" Peter asks, placing his hands on the table. "Unless they were you?"

Neal's eyes shoot up to meet the agents.

"Don't be disingenuous, tell us!" Peter insists.

Neal shifts in his seat with discomfort. He didn't like where this conversation suddenly went.

"I…" He pauses to gather the right words. "I could probably do it."

"And how would you go about that? O, master of taking?"

He swallows down his words. His foot taps the hard floor in thinking. He didn't like that Peter was putting him on the spot, even that he was being sarcastic. This is his department. He is the one who is suppose to be the sarcastic one. He didn't like the spot he was now in, and his body language told them all that.

"I can't tell you that." He simply replies.

"And why is that?" It seemed as soon as Neal finished speaking Peter was right there, picking up on another nettling question.

"Because you want to try?"

These words burn in the already tense air. Neal's throat tightened.

"If you want to, by all means go ahead. Right now, I wouldn't mind throwing you back into jail."

With these words, Neal stood and walked to the door.

"Where -"

"I'm going home. I don't feel like having you interrogate me!" Neal cuts off.

"You can't leave!" Peter demands.

"If it's in my three mile radius I can do what a want!"

And with that he walks out and slams the door behind him.


	2. Chapter two: Two Hours

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for reading this story, submitting your feedback and putting it on alerts and favorites! Hope this chapter keeps you as glued in****J Again, please tell me what you think! **

Peter sighs in relief as he sinks into his soft, cream colored couch. This day has been stressful to say the least. And it seemed to be finally calming down. What he really needed right now was just a good, hard drink and his bed. But he knew that wouldn't happen with Neal Caffrey on the fritz. It did worry him that Neal was out there, alone, who really knows who a expert con-man could do by his lonesome. Peter fallowed him constantly though. His red, stinging eyes lay still, watching as the little red speck of Neal's tracker, lay motionless on his open laptop screen.

Elizabeth, pops her head from the kitchen doorway. She notices the slight bags forming under her husbands usably bright eyes.

"Honey, what's wrong. You've been a little off since you came home," She says.

He watches the screen and sighs. No answer.

She throws the dish drying towel over her shoulder and saunters over to him. No words were expressed as she took a seat next to him and grasped his hand. She lay her head on his shoulder and watches the screen for a moment.

"Is that Neal?" She asks quietly.

He turns his head to her. "Yeah," He simply replies.

"I'm guessing Neal is why you are in such a glum mood. Hm?"

He takes a moment to answer. "I snapped on him today." He tells her. "I didn't mean to, but I was mad at him for not taking his job seriously. And for getting me yelled at," He snickers. But the emotions inside him were anything but happy.

She smiles at him. "Can you blame him. If I was in his shoes, his nice Italian leather shoes, I wouldn't want to go to work for the FBI either." She pauses to look at her husbands groggy face. "Quite frankly, I wouldn't want to work for the people who took away my life and my girl."

He had almost forgot about her. Kate. The girl who makes Neal's very heartbeats. His drug. He totally forgot about her. It seemed to him that Neal did too. But that's probably very wrong. His wife did have a point too. Neal was doing good at work for not wanting to be there. This was their first real fight actually. Now pain and anger on his part filled Peter. Why did he say all the things he did?

"You're right," He finally admits.

She smiles at him and kisses him. "Be patient with him hon, he'll turn around soon and notice it's all for his good."

Peter nodded. "I hope that's true," As the speck lay ever so still in the middle of nowhere.

Neal sits on a bench and watches as the cars pass by slowly. The fresh layer of snow covering the roads fill people with worry, and they use caution as they pass on the busy New York streets. Neal rubs his hands together trying to warm himself as the frigid winter air blows onto him. Cutting though him like a blade. He had been sitting here for at least two hours, just waiting for nothing. He didn't know where to go, what to do, who to talk to. He didn't want to go home, Peter would surly meet him there and have a few stern words for him. He couldn't go to Mozzie's house, if he even did have a home. Who really knew.

Another gust of air hits him causing his body to forcefully shiver. His hard breaths hit the air with a white cloud fallowing behind. It was time to get up. To keep his icy blood flowing thickly through his veins.

As he stood and walked on the snow covered sidewalks, he had an idea. He didn't know if it was in his radius though. At this point. Who really cared. He looked down to the lit green anklet tightly hugging his ankle. He continued walking, past the streets he didn't quite remember, down alleyways with odd looking strangers. The good thing was; people were scarce tonight, making it peaceful for once.

He stuffed his stunning white hands into his thick wool jacket pockets. Winter wasn't his favorite season, actually…it was the worse. Snow was pretty though, and the fact that Kate love's it makes him like it even more.

Kate. He would like to say he hasn't thought about her lately, but in reality…she almost haunted him. How was she? Was she alright? He missed her so much it hurt.

He stopped once he got to where he wanted. Smiling, he walked to the building and opened the thick metal doors. He climbed the memorable cage stairs that led to a dully lit hallway full of doors. A women standing at the end of the hallway caught a glance of him, and instantly a grin formed her old lips.

"Neal? Neal Caffrey?" She asks slowly.

He smiles at her and walks to her. She beams a smile back and almost gasps.

"It is you! I can recognize that smile anywhere. It's been so long! How have you been sweetheart?"

Once he reaches her he hugs her tightly. The warmth in her body felt so nice on his winter skin. "I've been…alright. How have you been Mable the Marvel?".

She blushed at her nickname. "You remember you use to call me that!" She smiles. "I've been…alright as well. The best a eighty-eight year old widow can be you know?"

Neal nods.

"It's so nice to see you here! You have become such a breathtaking gentleman. The women must be all over you." She tells him. "Whatcha doing back?"

He looks around and a small smile forms his purple lips. "Came back to reminisce. Does someone live in 225?" He asks, trying to hid the slight shiver still lingering in his voice.

She shakes her head. "No one has lived there in a while. Its been vacant actually."

"Good. Just what I wanted." He tells her.

She grins and places a soft hand on his cheek. She rubs it with her thumb and sighs. "You take care of yourself you hear me?" She almost demands.

He nods. "If you need anything, please…" He trails off. He had nothing to give her. Nothing to even help her with. Nothing of offer.

"I know you are there for me. So thank you." She whispers.

At that she takes her cane with a whimsy hand and walks into the room next to her and shuts the door. It felt like an entirety since he had seen her last, and it was nice to see her one last time.

He turned and looked at the middle door in the hall, once he reached it he opened it and it greeted him with a loud _creek. _The room was empty as Mabel said it would be. It held the tinge of winter as he took steps deeper into it. The lights from outside spread on the wood floors, smearing them with a dull yellowish color. It was hard to walk back in here, after all that had unfolded inside its midst. But it was also a relief. Enough of a relief that he didn't notice the consistent beeping sound coming from his anklet. He peers down to it and finds the light has turned red. His heart throws itself against his chest, this has never happened before. He assumed Peter would be rolling around with his police car in a matter of minuets. Telling him he's going back to jail. For what? Accidentally going out of the radius? Just once? He slid down a pillar in the middle of the room and reached for his phone. He dialed the number and the other line picked up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Hey Moz, I need to ask you a question."

"I'm at your service." The little bald man replies.

"Where is Kate…"

The question lingered, as Mozzie thought over the answer.

"I'll do my research and get back to you in a little wh-"

"I can't wait a little while. I need it now. Please try to find out and meet me at central in two hours. I need this from you Moz,"

Mozzie hadn't heard such desperation in his friends voice in a long time. He was begging him to do this.

"Where are you?" He inquires.

Neal looks around the room and smiles. "Where it all began."

"Oh. I see…" He replies.

It was quiet on the other line as Mozzie sighs.

"Alright fine." He whispers. "Two hours."

Peter is awakened from his peaceful slumber my an obnoxious beeping sound. It rings through his ears as his sleepy brain tries to compute. He slowly sits up in his bed so not to awaken his wife and opens his computer. Which lay on the nightstand beside him. The little red dot has grown large, it ripples on the screen as his phone rings.

He grabs it quickly and shushes it by clapping both hands over stumbles off the bed and out of the silent bedroom.

"Yeah Jones, what's up?" Peter whispers.

"Caffrey is out of his radius boss," He replies.

Peter felt like snapping on Jones now, yes of course he is out of his radius, he has been for like five minutes now!

"Thank you Jones. I'll handle it." He says.

"No problem." Then the line hangs up.

Peter rubs his eyes with his hands and peers over to the clock. 1:12. That same fury started bubbling inside him again. What the heck was Neal doing at 1:12 in the morning? He trudges from the hallway and walks back into the dark bedroom. Elizabeth is sitting up in the bed now, a worried look is spread across her face.

"Everything okay?" She asks.

"Neal's anklet has been going off. I half to go find him," He answers.

She frowns but smiles. "Okay then. Please be careful, the snow is making driving hard. And bundle up, it freezing out there." She tells him.

He abides and slides on a thick jacket. He then kisses his wife and heads down the stairs.

~ The roads were slick with black ice, so he drove very slowly. The heat blasted out of the vents in the car, but it felt as if the fire rustling inside him was enough to keep him warm. The snow made everything blur, his wind shield wipers were at full blast wiping the flakes from his view. He kept his computer on the passenger seat beside him. He was getting closer. And that's when the dot moves, it begins to slowly trek the screen until the beeping stopped and the words: 'Radius Entered' popped up.

He sighed and pulled the car over. That sigh became a grumble.

"He's playing games with me!" He screams to himself.

He was only a road away from where Neal was, so he stopped the car and stepped out.

The winter air engulfed him in seconds. He wrapped himself farther into his coat and trudged. It was very quiet tonight, almost dead. His shoes sink in the fluffy white, and after it melts the water seeps inside. He reaches the spot where Neal was. He looked up the building and started laughing, he didn't know why…this wasn't funny.

He stands before the building he first found Neal. Where he first ran after he escaped from prison. His old apartment. Where him and Kate lived, smiled, where this story all began.

**So how was it? Interesting right? Please tell me what you think! The next chapter will be up in a few days!**


	3. Chapter three: Snapped

**A/N: Hey again! I'm really glad you guys have been enjoying this story! Thank you so much for all the favorites and alerts! Also reviews! It's awesome to hear what you think! We'll here's another chapter, I didn't know how I felt about it at first, but I think it will tie in good with the rest of the story. Please tell me what you think! **

When Peter walked into his house later that night. He wanted nothing more then to slug that kid over the head. This whole experience has been nonsense! Neal purposely not waking up on time, getting himself yelled at by Hughes. Taking over the conference like it was his own, storming out of the room like a child. Then lastly, going out in the middle of nowhere in the darkness of a freezing night! Waking him from a peaceful slumber to find Neal not even there! Right now it seemed there would be no way he could get anymore upset. His cheeks burned red, and his heart slammed furious beats in his chest.

He took a deep breath, and looked around. The house was fully lit. Satchmo lay at the door waiting for him. He ringed around the corner and found a sight on the couch. He swallows, but for some reason a loud series of laughs escaped him. His wife sit on the couch, with a steaming glass of, what seemed like tea, in her hands. She rubs his back vigorously, trying to get some color to his limbs.

There he was, sitting next to his wife, wrapped in at least five of their blankets. Sipping of a glass of tea himself. His teeth clatter as he gives a weak smile to Peter. Peter takes another breath. He shoots his eyes over to his calm wife.

She knew what he was thinking and bit her lip. "I found him outside, he was freezing so I let him in and tried to warm him." She tells him.

One of Neal's azure eyes pop out from the cloak of blankets he's smothered in.

Peter tries to calm himself by taking deep breaths and closing his eyes.

"What are you doing here Neal?" He whispers.

Satchmo runs to Neal and sits at his feet, licking his bright white hands.

"I came to talk to you." He tries to speak without shivers.

Peter takes a seat in front of them. He watches Neal closely.

"What do you want?" He sternly asks. His anger seeping from his words.

Neal frowns. "Are you really still upset at me? I'm sorry, okay? That's why -"

"You're sorry hm? Sorry just isn't going to do for this one Neal. You've been playing me like a game all day! You've…" He stops. "You've coned me."

Neal almost jumps from the couch. Even if he wanted to he knew he couldn't con Peter. That was one of the reasons he got caught twice. Peter must be really mad, not to even notice that.

"How do you figure?" He asks.

Peter stands and paces the room, El watches them both intently. She wanted to say something. But maybe she shouldn't. This wasn't her fight. She didn't even understand why they were mad at each other to begin with.

Peter turns to face them both, but he looks directly at Neal.

"You've ran around aimlessly causing your anklet to go off! Meaning I had to wake myself and my wife at one in the morning and try to find you! When I did get to the place you weren't even there! And to find out you were here, cuddling my wife!" He stops to sit back down. He places his hands in his hair and looks down.

"I wanted to talk to you and apologize. And your wife is a sweetheart, letting me come in and warm myself." Neal slowly tells him.

"What were you doing at your old apartment?" Peter quickly inquires.

Neal looks down at Satch, and wipes a hand over his head. "I needed to think about something."

Peter lifts an unbelieving eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

"I just needed to clear my head and my apartment always let me do that. I'm sorry I went out of my radius. I've only done it once. I'm sorry I messed up your entire day. My mind has just been…preoccupied lately."

Peter couldn't help but calm some once Neal sincerely apologized. He had snapped again at Neal. Really…what had gotten into him.

"You have been thinking about Kate haven't you?"

These words burn in the air. It ate up everyone like fire engulfing a old house. Mostly Neal though. He stare a unbelieving look to Peter. He had no way to answer that. But he tried. "I…" It didn't come.

"She's making you crazy Neal don't you notice that? She's fogging your mind."

El stands in. "I think what Peter is trying to say is you haven't been thinking clearly lately. I mean, you sat outside for two hours on one of the coldest nights in New York. Do you think you would do that normally?"

"Kate didn't make me do that. I just needed some air." Neal replies.

Peter shakes his head. "Please. For heavens sake stop lying to us Neal! Your whole life has screwed with your mind somehow." He stopped. That was crossing the line and he knew it.

Neal busts up and throws the blankets from him, he growls and lowers at Peter. Even El

flinches with his sudden outburst.

"You don't know anything about me." He grumbles.

"I know enough." Peter retorts.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I know that you are best friends with a criminal. Who probably needs to be in jail. Your parents treated you like crap and your in love with a girl that doesn't feel the same about you."

The moment goes by slowly, almost like in slow motion. Neal's face was utter fury and pain. He walks to the door and looks back one last time.

"Peter. I hope you find that your wrong about me. Because until you do…" And with that he slams the door, leaving only a burst of fresh snow on the wood floor behind him.

**So? How was it?**

**Fun fact: This was actually a two part dream I had haha. The ending came first and the beginning came two nights later :D I was Neal, it was very…odd to say the least. Haha.**


	4. Chapter four : I have a plan

**A/N: Hey guys its me again! I just wanted to write this note saying I'm sorry if chapter three seemed a bit odd to you all. With them fighting. They seemed different and I know that. Chapter five will lighten that up a bit. But I am sorry, if you guys didn't enjoy it as much. I'll work on getting the characters to be a little more like they actually are. I might of messed up on chapter three with that a bit. But you must also go light on me, this is my first fanfic. Hope you like this chapter. It's a short one, but five makes up for it. Haha. Tell me what you think!**

Neal's body yells at him, it doesn't like the fact it's back outside. He wiggles his fingers, but they are now numb and tingling. His body shakes profusely, and is changing into an eerie purple color. The wind has calmed down some since he was last outside, but the uncommon freeze in the air made everything unbearable. Even blinking. His eyes scan a dark path leading down the length of Central Park. Little yellow lights illuminate the paths leading different directions. But besides those, it was pitch-black outside. The words of Peter rang through his ears. How each of those small words cut through him so swiftly. He never knew Peter could get so mad at him. He did feel bad, for all that he did today. All he put Peter through. But those things were small compared to the collection of other things he had done in the past. He didn't understand why Peter was so short tempered all the sudden. He had never been that way…ever! What made him snap?

The slight should of shoes coming up a dirt path to him made him turn his head. A little bald man with a long burgundy and orange striped button down shirt and fitted jeans walks towards Neal. He holds a tiny brown folder in his ring covered fingers.

Once he gets close to Neal he gives him a face. "Why exactly did you have to pick the coldest night of New York history to have me meet you here?" He asks.

Neal smiles. "I'm sorry. Didn't think you were just going to come in a thin button down shirt and some oddly fitted jeans. Thought you were smarter than that Moz," He replies.

Mozzie frowns at him but is still smiling. "I had a simple mind laps."

Neal shakes his head at him. "Did you find anything?"

Mozzie takes a seat next to Neal on a park bench and opens the folder. He pulls out a few pieces of paper and hands them to him.

"You didn't give me a lot of time to find out much. But on that limited amount of time I found some things out," He tells him.

He points to the first page Neal is holding. "That's a bank transaction. The name she took it out of was David Norris. So obviously, she stole from this man. Three hundred dollars to be exact. All the money in the account. The man reported it a few hours later but my then she was out of there. They didn't get any surveillance video of pictures of her either."

Neal's frozen lips prick up as his eyes scan the paper he holds. "She was always good at hiding," He mentions. "That's why it's so hard for me to find her sometimes."

Mozzie looks over at him and clears his throat. "I did find out though…that she left the city. The last time she was seen here in New York, she was spotted at the coffee shop on forth." He then hands Neal a picture they had taken of her in the coffee shop. His face lights up when he sees her. She hasn't changed at all.

"I do have reports though that she was seen at a grocery store in Washington D.C where-"

"Where she lives." Neal finishes.

"Precisely." Mozzie agrees.

"So this means she must be at home."

Mozzie nods. "That. Or she has already left D.C, there's no account of her after the grocery store." He reports.

"I can't take that chance," Neal quickly replies. "I have to find her."

Mozzie looks over to his friend, the look spread over Neal's face was desperation, desperation and sadness. Which Neal didn't show often.

"Why all the sudden you need to find Kate?" He quietly asks Neal, knowing full well the answer would be hard to get out of his hard headed friend.

Neal scrutinizes the picture, his liquid colored eyes lighten. Along with his tight jaw and freezing muscles. "I need to know all that Peter said was a lie." He simply replies.

Mozzie lifts a brow. "The Suit? What did he say?"

Neal shakes his head, some of his thick, wavy hair pushes to the side as he does so.

"He said Kate doesn't love me. And never had."

"And you believe she does?"

Neal looks over to him. "That's what I need to find out."

Mozzie nods in understanding. "So then the Suit is just going to let you go?" He looks down to the anklet hugging Neal.

Neal peers down to it too. "Not exactly. But I have a plan." He tells his odd friend.

"You can't pick it," Mozzie reminds him.

"Yes I know that. One of the only things I can't pick. But I have an idea. But you'll need to help me with it."

Mozzie's brow pricks up. "Oh?"

"Oh yes."

"Well I'm always at your service sir!"

Neal smiles at him and looks back down to the picture in his pale hands. He wipes a finger over her beautiful eyes.

"I'll be seeing you soon Kate."


	5. Chapter five: Do you love her?

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to post another chapter, I've been kinda busy lately. It's gonna kinda be that way for a little while to bear with me please! Well, here's another chapter, hope you enjoy it. A lil clearing up and bonding should be good for everyone. Enjoy! And tell me what you think!**

The next morning rolled around quickly, and before he knew it, Peter was stepping into the bureau. It was quiet inside, considering today they probably wouldn't have Neal joining them. As he enters through the thick glass doors he peers over to Neal's desk, with the slightest hope to see him sitting there, with his fedora laid in the middle. But instead he was met by emptiness. He sighs and shakes his head.

That's what he knew he should have been expecting.

He felt so bad about loosing his temper like that with Neal. He had never gotten that mad…ever. Nothing could explain the feeling he had inside him, sorrow, and pain. He was sorry.

As he walks to his room, he's greeted by Jones' smiling face.

"Hey boss! How was your adventure last night with Caffrey?" He smartly asks.

Peter grumbles. "He sent me on a cat and mouse chase that kept me up until two in the morning. Then I found him at my house, sharing a piping cup of chamomile tea with my wife. And I didn't get very many hours of sleep last night, maybe five."

Jones lets himself laugh slightly at Peters turmoil.

"Oh you think that's funny?" Peter lifts a wondering eyebrow.

"It just sounds to me that you need a good, strong cup of coffee and a nap," Jones replies.

Peter nods. "Yes I do."

He turns to the coffee table. Which was usually crowded this time of the morning. About eight o'clock. But it was empty. He walks to the coffee maker and pulls out the pot to examine. Only black sludge was left slithering around the bottom. No wonder why there was no one drinking it. As he was about to fill it a voice spoke up behind him.

"I took the last cup," It says. And Peters ears prick up. "I made it just the way you like it though." The person adds in.

Peter slowly turns with a odd, surprised expression.

"Neal? What are you doing here?" He asks eyeing Neal standing behind him.

"This is my job remember? Five thirty to what ever time at night." He answers.

He passes Peter the coffee and gives him a smile. He eyes Neal as he takes a slow sip. "Um," He mutters. "This it really good! How did you know what I liked?"

"I know as much about you as you do about me. So…I know a lot." He laughs.

Peter smiles at him and takes another sip. "I feel like I should be a little alarmed about you knowing a lot about me."

Neal shrugs. "I don't know a lot. Just the main facts that would be crucial to your life in a time of distress." He says.

Peter lifts an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. I would like to think so," He replies. "So then, do you think you and I can be good now?" His tone now serious.

Peter drops the cup down and gives him a face. "Just because you made me coffee doesn't mean I'll forgive you for what you put me through last night."

"Aw come on Peter! I made it just so!"

"Yeah but its not June's Italian roast."

Neal begins to walk away but turns his head. "How do you know?"

Peter shakes his head and smiles. It was nice they could talk now. This is how it always should be. Nothing like last night should of ever happened.

"Hey Neal," Peter calls out.

Neal turns.

"I want to say…" He pauses to grasp his words. "I'm sorry. About snapping at you. I shouldn't of and I know that. It was a side of me I've never seen before. And a side of you I've never seen before. I'm sorry,"

Neal turns and walks to his desk. "The feeling is mutual."

He then takes a seat at his 'desk' and places his fedora in the middle, his head cranes over to Jones so he could obnoxiously wave and smile at him, which makes Jones uncomfortable. And that makes Neal laugh.

Hughes walks down the steps to the bottom floor, he greets Peter before he walks to the coffee pot. Neal springs up and over to the older agent. He slides past the coffee table and beside Hughes.

"Hey sir!" He greets.

The old man stare at him, blinking slowly.

"What do you want Caffrey?" He grumbles.

Neal's eyes grow wide at his stern greeting. "Just noticing that there is no coffee left. Would you like it if I dropped by the coffee shop down on forth and got us some? It's the best coffee in town." He raises his voice so everyone could hear. "Does anyone want some gourmet coffee? My treat!"

Everyone hoots and hollers at this, anything but that nasty black goo they always had to drink. And if they didn't half to pay…that was even better.

Hughes examines the pot just as Peter previously had. A disgusted face comes to him as he places it down.

"What are you doing this for Caffrey?" He asks.

Neal thinks this over. "Because Italian roast is the best!" He simply replies.

Hughes gives another hesitant look over to the pot. "Fine. But be back before the first meeting. You hear me? No more than an a hour." He instructs him.

Neal nods in understanding and runs to his desk. As he was walking out the door Hughes yells, "Dianna you go with Caffrey!"

Neal automatically throws his head up and rolls his eyes but throws a smile at her. He thought he just might get out of here without a watchman. Guess not.

Dianna jumps out of her seat and grabs her blazer. She saunters over to him and smiles as she passes.

"Thought you could get away hm, Caffrey?" She smartly asks.

He pushes the button to call the elevator.

He looks over to here with an eye. "I could never get away from you Dianna." He sarcastically replies.

Once they get to the bottom floor they walk down the busy morning streets of New York. People push and shove past you in their hurry. Some give you looks and curse at you for no reason. Just an everyday thing for Neal though.

He tries to out walk Dianna, even tried loosing her in the midst of the crowds, but she stuck tightly to his side. Never loosing him once. Once the crowds dim down Dianna gives him a little space.

"Your hair looks great today Dianna, new style?" Neal suddenly asks.

She looks over to him, he's giving her one of his flirty smiles, and she knew that.

"Again, I'm going to say it to you Caffrey. Flirting doesn't work with me. So…stop." She laughs.

"Is it one of those, don't ask don't tell things?" He replies.

"Pretty much."

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and inhales the crisp air, his blue eyes scan the surroundings ahead.

Dianna watches him. "So why was going to get coffee so important to you?" She inquires. "I know it wasn't to just be nice."

He rests his fedora in his thick hair.

"I guess that means you don't know much about me then hm?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can be nice. Sometimes its what you stuck-up agents need is a nice guy to lighten up your miserable lives."

She quickly looks at him, her brow furrowed. "Oh really? Is that why?"

He nods. "Yeah, don't you notice my cunning charm?"

She rolls her eyes, but a smile still forms her lips. "I notice that the only person who is stuck-up in the office is you."

His face showed he was hurt by her words. "Ouch. Good come back though."

They waited for the light to change for the walkway, before passing. The shop was down the street some, the same coffee shop Kate went to.

Dianna noticed Neal's face and asks, "Why do you care so much for this Kate girl?"

His head doesn't turn but his eyes shift over to her. "Now who's getting all up in someone's else's business?" He tries to divert the conversation.

She cocks her head at him. "I asked so now you half to tell,"

"I don't think that's how that works."

She shakes her head and giggles at him. "But no really, way is she so important to you?"

He looks down at the pavement as it slowly passes under his shoes it has a light layer of snow covering it. First snow fall. The white was so pure. "She was the only one I had at that time," He replies. "And that was good enough with me."

"Do you love her?" She quickly asks.

"I guess we'll see." He answers as he looks up at the quaint coffee shop ahead.


End file.
